


Twenty Sherlolly Prompts: The Truth Shall Set You Free

by MizJoely



Series: Twenty Sherlolly Prompts [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Potter!Lock, Potterlock, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>andydona-chan on tumblr said: Hello! I've been following your blog for a while, it's taken me a while to keep up with your pace of writting (you're fast), but I really like your stories, and well I was wondering if you could recieve a short prompt please? (I'm not really used to ask, but I want to see what brilliant story you can create from this) So, how about something with a truth spell or something (verita serum, would be to Harry Potter-ish) to have Sherlock speaking of things he would rather not say aloud, =) have fun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Sherlolly Prompts: The Truth Shall Set You Free

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt fic down. Only three more to go in this series! This is set at Hogwarts about five years before Harry Potter becomes a first year student there.

“All right, Holmes, time for you ta have a taste a’ your own medicine!”

Sherlock’s head was pulled roughly back, his mouth forced open and the open neck of a potions flask shoved against his teeth. “Swallow it down, laddie, or we’ll make your little girlfriend drink it down instead!”

Sherlock shot Molly a quick look, assessing her reaction should the ruffians who’d cornered them do as threatened. Working for that slug, Moriarty, no doubt, but as usual his fellow Slytherin was nowhere to be seen when it came to getting his hands dirty. It was too bad Molly had gotten caught up in this, but John was still laid up with Madame Pomfrey fretting over his broken leg and concussion after the last Quidditch game, and Molly had volunteered, and now she was looking absolutely terrified at the thought of being force-fed the _veritaserum_ and so Sherlock obediently opened his mouth as the poorly-disguised Seb Moran gleefully poured the potion down his throat.

He choked and gagged a bit at the bitter flavor – the truth always had a nasty taste when forced on a person, he could practically hear his brother sneering – then glared as he was released and shoved to the center of the ring of wand-yielding thugs. If they were on Hogwarts property and not all out in the Forbidden Forest, help would be only a brief summons away, but no, he’d just had to try and figure out what Moriarty was up to tonight, and let himself be tricked into an ambush. He deserved whatever he had coming to him for that bit of stupidity, but Molly didn’t, even if Moran was wrong about her being his girlfriend. How could she be, no girl could really like a freak like him, not once she got to know him better…

He shook his head; what was his problem, why was his mind lingering on such inconsequential nonsense when he needed to focus on the very real threat of the four figures surrounding them? Molly had been pushed to the center of the ring as well, he noted, and although she was doing her best to project a brave front, he could tell just how fragile a deception that really was. “Let her go, Moran, she has nothing to do with any of us. We all know Moriarty only pretended to like her to get to me.”

Molly gasped, and Sherlock grit his teeth before shooting her an apologetic look. He hadn’t meant to say that, and he couldn’t blame the potion; it didn’t work that way. No, he realized; the regular potion didn’t work that way. Nor did it usually leave such a strong after-taste in the mouth. Which meant…

“Ooh, look, he’s figgered it out!” Moran crowed with a crooked leer. “Jimmy said he would, even told me ta keep track a’ the time. Less than five minutes, and he knows he can’t lie to ‘imself any more than he can to us right now!” The others cackled their pleasure, and Sherlock automatically noted their identities – Irene Adler, Charlie Magnussen, and Sebastian Wilkes. Of course. “Anyone have any questions for ‘im before we report him and Miss Mouse here for bein’ in the Forbidden Forest after dark?”

“If you report us, you’ll give yourselves away,” Molly spoke up, a small quaver in her voice, but sounding quite defiant otherwise. 

Moran snorted. “Nah, we’ll just say we spotted the pair a’ you on our way to doin’ our Astrology project. Ain’t that right, guys?”

A chorus of chortles and sniggers greeted his remark, but Sherlock was certain that Wilkes’ laughter sounded far more forced and uneasy than any of the others. “A taste of your own medicine would quickly prove otherwise,” Sherlock drawled. “And you know that both Molly and I would willingly take an _officially_ applied dose of the…”

“Are you sleeping with her, Sherlock?” 

Irene’s coolly amused tones interrupted him, and Sherlock only had time to note that she wasn’t even trying to disguise her voice the way Seb Moran was before he heard himself answering, “No, of course not.”

Molly flinched and he made a mental note to apologize to her later, but then Irene spoke again. “Why not?”

“Because it would be taking advantage of her feelings for me.”

Another smattering of laughter from the others, a soft sound from Molly that might have been a stifled sob. “Feelings you don’t return?” Moran called out.

Sherlock bit into his lip hard enough to draw blood, but the words poured out of him, carried on the back of the potion he’d been forced to swallow. “Feelings I do return, but I know she only thinks she loves me, that she couldn’t possibly really love me because I’m not worth it. And I’m not worth her.”

“Hey, you lot! What d’yer lot think yer doin’ out here?”

The voice of Hagrid the groundskeeper scattered the group, leaving only Molly and Sherlock to face his wrath, such as it was. Luckily he and Sherlock had always hit it off, and he’d always had a soft spot for the muggle-born Molly Hooper. With the _veritaserum_ still running through his system Sherlock quickly explained their presence, and Hagrid agreed to keep their presence here to himself. Since the others had vanished before he could identify any of them – and since Sherlock’s knowledge was suspect due to his drugged state – there wasn’t actually much that could be done to punish the others. Sherlock hated that they’d gotten off scott free almost as much as he hated not finding out what Moriarty had been up to in the Forbidden Forest…and he hated that only a fraction as much as he hated having poured out his feelings for Molly under such abominable circumstances.

As they trudged back to the main building, Sherlock couldn’t help darting glances at Molly. They were both seventh year students, but that was truthfully (he thought sourly considering his current be-potioned status) the only thing they had in common. He was Slytherin, she was Hufflepuff. He was a Pure Blood (though he loathed that term) and she was a muggle-born. Both his parents were alive and well, she was an orphan. He was sarcastic and bad-tempered, she was friendly and calm and everything else he absolutely was not. People were as astounded by his friendship with her as they were with Gryffindor John Watson.

He was just as astounded by their friendship…and he felt his cheeks growing warm as he waited for Molly to say something, _anything_ , about what he’d just been forced to reveal. Did she hate him now? Was she embarrassed by his words, or hurt? Would she finally turn away from him the way he’d always assumed she someday would? Would she…

His panicky thoughts stuttered to silence as he felt her reach out and take his hand in hers. “That…what you said back there, I know you didn’t have a choice, Sherlock, but that was…quite lovely. Thank you. Oh!” she exclaimed before he could say anything in response. She’d stopped walking and Sherlock turned to face her, noting how lovely she looked in the light of the full moon, now that they were no longer in the darkness of the trees. “Sherlock, I’m going to ask you one question, but only if you don’t mind. May I ask one question, after this one of course?”

She giggled a bit, and Sherlock found himself nodding. “You can ask me anything you like, Molly,” he replied truthfully. Not that he could reply any other way, of course, but the way Molly had worded the question meant that if he actually did mind, he could have said no. So he didn’t mind, and it was a relief, because if he hadn’t been under the potion’s influence, he might not have been able to decide if he did mind or not.

“Would it be all right if I kissed you?”

And with those nine words, suddenly everything that had happened during this entire, humiliating evening became more than worth it.

“Yes, Molly. Any time you like.”

Her lips were soft and sweet, and he looked forward to many more kisses in their future.


End file.
